


Even Robots Need Blankets

by versionsofdestiny



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:25:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6219994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versionsofdestiny/pseuds/versionsofdestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say the universe is infinite, and there is a lot of truth to that statement. Clarke and Lexa find themselves in a universe that seemingly wants them to get together. What if, in this universe, you find out who your soulmate is on your eighteenth birthday? What if, somehow, the universe has its own agenda? The two girls discover a long-hidden truth on the green-eyed girl's eighteenth birthday. Maybe it's destiny, maybe it's just love. Either way, there could be a chance that this might actually work. Maybe they were meant to be together after all. </p><p>Or maybe this is just a soulmate au where Lexa doesn't get killed by a stray bullet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pull Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is triggering, so be careful not to read it if you're easily triggered. You can skip the first chapter if you like considering it's more of a prologue than an actual chapter. Have fun reading and please let me know what you think of it in the comments. Thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Suicide/Self Harm

"Pull me back, into the fold with you."

All Lexa could hear was the rumbling noise of the motors, the alarming melody of the sirens and the murmuring sounds people made between their lips. She loathed the unpleasantness of the commotion, and in a city like this, peacefulness was something unattainable. Every little note she heard seemed to feel like a knife piercing through her eardrums, and every stab felt more painful than the last. The amplified noise coming from about a hundred meters below travelled through the space between and reached where she was standing - three hundred feet above ground and about a thousand miles away from normality.

Or at least that was what it felt like. A rush of cold air blew through hurriedly, as if it had somewhere better to be than to be loitering on some random roof. The wind was mocking her, and Lexa could have even sworn she heard a smirk. These days, it was hard to distinguish the voices in her head and the words of reality. She would like to think that even the forces of nature were scared of her, with their unwillingness to linger around. Being able to feel powerful would be a wondrous thing, but then again she wouldn't know how it felt.

Her skin tingled with the touch of her palm which were freezing. Her fingers were red, and her hand seemed to get colder with every passing minute. She traced her fingers down the uneven skin above her bloodstream. The red lines and the blue veins seemed to be at war with each other, and she was the one responsible for that bloodshed. By now, the red streaks had started to give up, though the ones on the front line were still vibrant with colour. She found herself amused by how it no longer hurt as it once did. Someone once told her that the pain wears off over time, and perhaps she had started to grow immune to pain, or at least the physical ones.

Once again, her brain started to drown out all the unwanted noise, leaving her alone with just her own dark and twisted thoughts. She leaned forward, against the balcony designed to prevent people from falling over the edge. She wrapped her fingers around the bar, her firm grip grasping the steady piece of metal. She wondered what if, by some sort of magic, it suddenly disappeared. She imagined holding it for one second and it disappearing the next. How easy would it be to slip, accidentally, of course, and without the protection, to just let her body soar through the air? How easy would it be to give it all up in just a split second?

Another scenario, a rather perfect one, she might add, would be leaving this world as a heroine. She remembered the apartment they used to live in, and that truck parked give streets down with the hazardous label stuck to the side of it. She thought about what would happen if she was there the day it exploded. Of course, her death wouldn't be in vain, and during the last few seconds, she would push someone out of harm's way, seemingly the hero of the story. No one would have to know. No one would have to know that this wasn't an accident. No one would have to doubt her intentions. Killing two birds with one stone, they say. Or maybe just one.

A less gruesome scenario would be ideal too. She remembered sitting in the bleachers of the swimming pool, spending the entire evening staring at the sign that indicated the depth of the water. She imagined falling to the bottom, finally getting to drown out the noise, quite literally as well. She would feel her body entirely submerged, and the only colour she would be left with was blue. The water would feel cold, numb to the touch. It would be a struggle, a brief fight for air. Then she would swallow water and that would be it. It would be tragic, of course, but we could all use a little tragedies in our lives. A tragic accident, the people would whisper. But little did they know.

Unconsciously, her fingertips kept tracing the broken skin on the palm of her hand. The one thing that people rarely knew was that your palm was one of the most concealing places. Her fingers wrapped into a fist, mimicking what she often did when someone got too close. When it healed, the scars hid perfectly among the rest of the patterns and it was barely noticeable. She wasn't scared of dying, she was scared of people finding out she wanted to. 

With ease, she lifted one leg over the barrier and the weight of her high tops let her limb rest heavily on the bar. She pressed against the hard surface and with one push, her body swung across to the other side. There she sat, clinging to safety as she balanced herself.

She took another glimpse of the darkened alleyway as her breathing escalated. She would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. It was a long way down, and as frightening the scenario seemed, the truth was that she wouldn't really care one way or the other. Sure, she would like to have the chance to say goodbye, but that wasn't a priority. At the end of day, nothing else really mattered. Fading into oblivion was one of the most appealing aspects of death. 

Most people would paint a mental image of longed for accomplishments, associated with the idea of a dream come true. For the girl contemplating whether it was all worth it, she knew that no one would understand her if she said that death was her idea of having a dream become a reality. To be able to escape from this world filled with souls shadowed with hypocrisy, silhouettes controlled by extreme emotions and human beings who only felt the need to look out for themselves was her idea of achieving her dream. In a certain way, death was her destination, her one desire. Sure, death was everyone's destination, but it usually wasn't something longed for. It would be so easy, to just be gone, to simply disappear from this. It would be a relief, to actually be able to escape from this hell.

The one thing this action required though, she lacked. Being able to walk over the blockade required willpower, which Lexa supposed she could pretend she had for a minute. But the next step, which was to let go, that was the tough one. If only she had a little more control over the way her mind worked, perhaps she wouldn't be in this situation. A little more courage, a little more certainty in her life, she could have set her mind onwards another goal. But there was no purpose in trying to solve all the what-ifs in life, to wonder what could have been. The truth was, she simply didn't have the dedication needed to help her succeed in life. That was her problem.

She wasn't wrong, thinking that willpower was the one thing she lacked all those years since realizing her tendency towards suicide at the age of eleven. She decided she wanted to become a writer at that age, and the story of a young girl's journey towards death had always been stuck at the back of her mind. She doubted she even understood what suicide even meant at that age, but somehow she knew she wanted it. Seven years later, she still felt the same.

All alone, at the top of the roof, was the perfect way to go. No one here to say goodbye to and no one here to convince her that this wasn't right. The definition of right and wrong was something imposed by the society long before her existence, so why should she take the word "right" for granted? Nothing could truly be right or wrong, and Lexa never thought of suicide as something "wrong". Why leave everything to chance, to disappear all of a sudden, as opposed to knowing and choosing how you could leave this world?

She hoped people would understand. She genuinely did. The biggest misconception of suicide was that the light at the end of the tunnel darkened because no one cared anymore. They told them that someone cared, that someone would mourn their deaths. But the thing about living was that you were supposed to live for yourself, instead of living for somebody else. It wasn't because no one cared, it was because you didn't care. Lexa knew that she had people who would be devastated if she left, family that would have their hearts broken, friends who would mourn her, but that wasn't the point. She didn't want to live. 

For the optimists, she would be in a better place. For the believers, she would be in heaven, welcomed at the pearly gates and dancing with the angels. For the mourners, they would reflect on all the signs they should have seen coming. For the intellects, they would try to explain it, to understand it, and only would they rest when they seemingly figured it out -- by coming up with reasons that couldn't be further away from the truth.

Death was never something to be feared to her, and there wasn't a reason for her to live. At least not one strong enough. She thought about how people would react if they got the news that she passed away. Putting someone else in misery to end her own agony, she knew it was selfish. She fucking knew it was selfish and she hated herself for it. She hated herself so much for having suicidal thoughts cross her mind, and she hated how there was this part of her mind that actually could go through with it. She hated herself for considering the idea of leaving everyone she loved in pain, and she hated how she couldn't change how she felt. 

The green eyes filled with tears and she realized once again that she couldn't go through this today. The seventeen-year-old girl started sobbing uncontrollably and she jumped back onto the roof. She wanted to be able to do, and not think twice about the people she would be affecting. But she couldn't. Little did she know that this would be a blessing in disguise. One day, the girl would realize that there was someone worth living for, and when that they came, she would learn that this moment of weakness would mean a life of happiness.


	2. When You See My Friends

"Were you honest with yourself, every version of yourself?"

Clarke heard the hushed voices through the closed door and out of curiosity, she wondered what all the fuss was about. Seconds ago, the music had been blasting through the speakers in the kitchen and even her headphones couldn't drown out the noise. The music was still playing though not as loud as before. The voices had quieted down, which was unusual considering it was a party and everyone out there was intoxicated, if not drunk by now. Or perhaps someone just closed the kitchen door so it wouldn't spread all the way over here. 

The blue-eyed girl made her move towards the door and made sure it was shut before pressing her ear towards it. She remembered to check if the door was closed all the way because she made the mistake of forgetting to do so once while eavesdropping which led to the door slamming because of the weight of her body against it. The sound had in turn alerted whoever was outside and they'd soon disappeared into their rooms to avoid anyone listening in on their hushed conversation. 

Clarke considered whether this would actually amount to eavesdropping since people usually did so the other way round. She wasn't listening to a private consideration in somebody else's room, but rather someone gossiping in the corridor. The blonde-haired girl was almost certain that the people outside wouldn't be expecting their conversation to be private since they had practically been screaming at the top of their lungs and hollering song lyrics a few minutes ago. They were also probably too drunk to care one way or the other. With a shrug, she decided that she wasn't intruding by listening at the door and cupped her hands around her ear to get a better reception.

Two months into university and the only thing "interesting" that ever happened were parties. Clarke had never cared enough to be in the party scene, nor was she a fan of alcohol. There were days when it was quieter outside -- today was not one of those days. It was times like these she was glad that she was not a light sleeper, or else she wouldn't have gotten an ounce of sleep for the past few months. She didn't mind a little noise, she welcomed it in fact. Clarke slept with her headphones in so it didn't seem to make a difference either way.

Clarke silenced her thoughts to pay attention to what was going on outside, trying hard to hear the conversation. The muffled voices barely got through the door and the sound of the music seemed to be shadowing everything else. 

"Do it," she heard the whispers of a voice she didn't recognize. "You were the one who chose to do a dare."

"She is going to hate me after this," another voice spoke, slurring the words and Clarke could also hear the suppress of a giggle. 

"There is no way you are backing out of this now," another voice spoke, this time a male voice. This time it was much more aggressive, and Clarke started to get scared of what was going to happen next. Another reason contributing to her strong dislike of these parties were the constant party games. Truth or dare was just another excuse to get someone to spill their guts while they were drunk or to get someone to do things they would never be willing to when they were sober.

She imagined the situation outside, the two people pushing the wasted girl down the corridor closer and closer to her room. Clarke's room was situated at the end of the corridor, and she could hear the footsteps coming nearer. She always had a good intuition, which was why she couldn't get rid of the eerie feeling that whatever the dare was, it had something to do with her. The voices got louder with every sentence, and her heartbeat speeded up.

Unsurprisingly, she was right. Moments later, there was a loud crash at her door sounding like glass breaking. The unplanned commotion was then followed by a not-so-steady knock. The first sound sounded a little uncertain, but it was clearly a knock. 

Clarke waited a few seconds before she opened the door so it wouldn't seem like she had been listening at the door. Her intuition told her once again that the person outside would be her. Clarke didn't know what she wanted, but she wasn't about to be impolite and ignore her.

Trying hard not to be surprised, Clarke swung the door open to find one of her flatmates, Lexa standing outside, or rather, trying to. The taller girl was leaning against the wall, one hand holding a broken glass bottle and the other pressed against the wall. She could tell that Lexa was trying hard to act sober and stand still, but she was failing miserably.

Clarke didn't really know Lexa, but they had lived in the same flat for two months now. They hadn't spoken much since they arrived here, and the occasional greeting whenever they passed by each other in the hallway was not enough to make them friends. Clarke had never been an outgoing person, so she rarely took the initiative to socialize with people, even though she could be one of the friendliest people once you got to know her. Lexa, on the other hand, was rather closed off and sociable at the same time. Or at least that was what Clarke's impression of her was. There was something mysterious about Lexa's demeanour, something that made Clarke want to know more.

"Hey," Lexa spoke as she broke the ice between them. The green-eyed girl pressed her body against Clarke's bedroom door and stumbled in. It was only when Lexa moved that Clarke started to notice the other people gathered across the hallway. She knew they were probably hoping for a show and she wasn't about to let that happen and give them the satisfaction. With a huge, sarcastic smile on her face, Clarke slammed the door behind Lexa.

Immediately, her instinct was to make sure that Lexa was okay. Her hand unconsciously wrapped itself around Lexa's waist, helping her stabilize. She let the weight of Lexa's body shift towards her, as she help the other girl sit down slowly on the ground. Or at least she tried to. There was no way she could still stand any more.

"They...they told me I had to come in...we were playing truth or dare..." Lexa slurred her words, giggling at the same time. Lexa was still swinging the broken bottle in her hands, as though she was unaware that it was broken. 

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Clarke spoke sincerely, her hand grabbing Lexa's wrist to prevent her from moving as she used the other to get the bottle out of Lexa's hand. She saw red cuts on the other girl's palm and immediately asked. "Are those from the bottle?" 

Lexa wrapped her hands into a fist and Clarke quickly realized what it was. She spoke too soon, but the drunken girl didn't seem to catch on. Clarke looked at the inebriated girl with the brown hair and in her place was someone so vulnerable it felt as though if Clarke made one accidental move, the other girl would break apart. 

"They told me to...they told me to come in and kiss you." Lexa continued, although the smile on her face had faded away. Her expression was rather solemn, and Clarke couldn't tell if Lexa knew that she saw something she shouldn't have. Clarke couldn't help but feel like Lexa was aware of what she had seen and was deliberately changing the topic. But wasn't she drunk? The voice at the back of her mind told her to stop overthinking everything. "They dared me to kiss you."

"You don't get to use me like that," Clarke snapped, and she immediately regretted it the moment the words came out of her mouth. Even though it seemed a little harsh, it was the truth. She hated being pushed around, by people who never seemed to care for her other than when it suited their convenience. She had enough of getting used by people, whether by party games, or by benefitting from her lack of conviction to stick to what she wanted. 

Lexa didn't speak any more, and Clarke wondered if she was starting to sober up. Was it really a dare or was it something more? Clarke couldn't tell, but there was more to the story. Even from the first moment Clarke saw Lexa she could tell that there was something different about her. She was good at reading people, and Lexa was someone who far from your typical party girl. The girl had a gorgeous smile, yet she rarely used it other than when being intoxicated. Clarke knew that being drunk was far from happiness, and she had never seen Lexa look remotely happy when sober. Lexa had this glossy look in her eyes that was difficult to read, and Clarke enjoyed mysteries. 

"Sorry to bother you." Lexa stood up, staggering a little but her speech was much more steady now. She couldn't walk in a straight line as she made her way back to the door. Despite what Lexa did, Clarke still wasn't about to let her go back alone. She lifted Lexa's arm and wrapped it around her own shoulder.

The walk to Lexa's room could have taken mere seconds, but carrying someone else's weight was much more difficult than she thought. No one out there felt the need to help her as the two girls staggered into Lexa's room after Clarke retrieved Lexa's key out of the latter's back pocket. With a push, Lexa fell onto her bed with force.

God I hope she doesn't remember this tomorrow morning. As much as Clarke wanted to know more about the mysterious girl in front of her, this wasn't the way. 

Lexa had her eyes closed, and Clarke couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked. The older girl searched her mind for words to describe how Lexa looked in this state, and after contemplation, she came up with one word. Peaceful. Sometimes, being undisturbed was all you could ask for in this deafening world. 

Clarke realized that this probably was a huge invasion of privacy, despite her genuine intentions. Being in someone else's room felt...it felt personal. Considering that she didn't know Lexa all that well, she shouldn't be staying. 

Lexa turned around in her bed, opening her eyes to connect them with Clarke's. She didn't speak, and Clarke wasn't sure if she didn't because she couldn't or had nothing to say. Lexa's gaze lingered on the other girl, a little too long, Clarke might add. But there was something, something familiar, about this. Clarke couldn't bear to move her sight away from Lexa. The green orbs showed no emotion, and neither did the rest of her face. 

After a while, Clarke cleared her throat. "I see you've sobered up. I'm just gonna leave you to rest." She stood, trying hard not to be nervous, knowing that Lexa was watching her every move. Suddenly, standing up felt unnatural and Clarke focused on putting her feet on the ground. One foot in front of the other, she made her way towards the door.

"It wasn't..." Lexa's voice drifted off, and there were a million thoughts running through Clarke's mind. "Nevermind." The girl on the bed rolled her body to the other side so her back faced Clarke. 

Disappointed, Clarke closed the door gently, letting Lexa be alone, the way she knew the other girl wanted. She whispered quietly to herself. Good night, Lexa. 

Little did she know, the girl on the other side of the door was doing the same. Just a dare. Little did she know how important the words Lexa left unsaid were.


	3. Between the Minds

"I love the way you hear the words unspoken."

Clarke found Lexa on the roof. She wasn't deliberately looking for the other girl, it just so happened that their paths intertwined. Or at least that was what Clarke told herself. 

Lexa had one leg crossed and the other positioned vertically, her chin resting on her knee. Clarke couldn’t help but notice her jawline, which stood out among her facial features. Lexa sat in the shadows, avoiding the direct glare of the sunlight. She had a few pens laid out in front of her on the floor and a leather notebook lying on her leg. From afar, Clarke couldn't tell what it was, or what was written inside it. Lexa had her head leaned towards one side, her long hair lingering in the air moving slightly every time the wind whistled. The green eyes were fixated on the lined paper in front of her, and the lips was pressed towards the outer shell of her pen, her teeth biting on to the plastic a little. 

She is so gorgeous. The thought came as fast as it went. Lexa hadn't seen her yet, and Clarke wasn't sure if she wanted to disturb her seeing how concentrated she was with whatever she was doing. She knew that Lexa barely knew her, so she was afraid that anything she do might bother her. The reason Lexa was up here was probably because she wanted to be alone, and Clarke couldn't blame her. 

Why is that girl so damn mysterious? On one hand, she was the type to keep to herself and build up a ten feet wall between her and anyone else who tried to get near her. On the other hand, she was a party girl who was very sociable. Clarke found that rather intriguing, and it scared her. She didn't understand why she felt drawn to Lexa even when they barely knew each other. It wasn't even a physical attraction, regardless of how breathtaking Lexa looked. There was something there that she couldn't put in words. How could she feel emotionally drawn to someone she didn't know?

"Hey," Clarke spoke gently, not wanting to scare her. It didn't work out that way though, as Lexa had been too invested in her work. The call of her name caused Lexa to jump, and Clarke walked slowly over. She made sure to give Lexa enough time to put away whatever she was doing, knowing that it would be an invasion of privacy if she accidentally caught a glimpse of something if Lexa didn't want her to. Again.

Lexa struggled to act nonchalant as she closed the notebook, and Clarke pretended she didn't see. "If you're busy, I'll leave,'" Clarke offered. Honestly, she didn't even know why she was here. She didn't understand why she came up here in the first place, other than knowing that there was a possibility that Lexa was here because she had seen her come up here a few times before. She didn't actually have a purpose for being here, and nothing to say to the other girl. Nothing she could say out loud.

Lexa shook her head, indicating that Clarke was welcome to stay. Clarke still couldn't read her, and that frustrated her. She was good at reading people, but apparently that skill didn't extend to Lexa. She didn't know if she was curious about Lexa because she was the one person she couldn't read or because she really wanted to know her. 

"Do you mind?" Clarke indicating towards the space next to Lexa on the ground. Once again, the other girl shook her head in response without a word, and Clarke wondered if she should just leave her alone. Clarke lowered her body slowly next to Lexa’s, and the two sat in silence before the green-eyed girl broke the silence. 

"I never said thank you." 

Clarke raised her eyebrows as Lexa clarified her statement. "For the other night when you took care of me when I was drunk." 

"You didn't have to," Clarke's voice drifted off, remembering that night. "Do you remember, though, like what happened?" Unconsciously, Clarke bit her lips nervously, not knowing if they should be having this conversation. There were a lot of things better left unspoken between them. 

Lexa waited a few seconds, a few seconds too long, before murmuring that she didn't, and Clarke couldn't help but wonder if she was lying. In a way, she was glad that they wouldn't have to dive into this topic. Not yet. Yes, she would give anything to know what was in that head of hers, but everyone had boundaries. So she would wait. Until Lexa was ready. 

"I just wanted to..." Clarke began, not knowing how to express herself all of sudden. Clarke had always been an eloquent speaker, but somehow when it came to situations like this, her brain just wouldn't work. "I just wanted to say that I'm here if you need anything." 

As soon as she let the words leave her mouth, the look on Lexa's face made her regret it. Lexa didn't move an inch, but something in her eyes changed. The sharp green eyes seemed to fade into the dark, and the orbs seemed to change into a shade of grey. She didn't let her face reveal emotion, but her eyes betrayed her. Her lips were pressed shut, her feature were steady. But her eyes. For the first time, Clarke saw the pain, and it broke her heart to see it. 

"I'm sorry. I know you don't know me and it's not my right to butt in into any of your business. Pretend I never said that." Clarke became inarticulate as the words of apology stumbled out of her mouth. Why was this affecting her so much? She barely knew the girl and yet it felt like torture seeing her struggle with her emotions.

"It's..." Lexa swallowed and let out a deep breath. "It's alright."

They sat there in silence awkwardly, neither brave enough to make the first move to break the silence. God, why the hell is this girl affecting me this much? Clarke tried hard to control the rhythm of heart, her heartbeat increasing by the second and she prayed hard that Lexa wouldn't notice how nervous she was. 

"What do you want to know," Lexa broke the silence, and Clarke looked over to find the other girl with her eyes closed leaning backwards with her head against the wall. Hoping Lexa couldn't tell, Clarke remained focused on her facial features. 

"Come on, ask me what you want to know." Lexa's tone started to become more aggressive, even a little defensive. 

"It's not my place."

"Just spit it out." Lexa snapped. 

Clarke was taken aback by the change in tone, and admittedly, hearing Lexa use that tone directed at her felt like a punch in the gut. 

"I'm sorry." Lexa retreated. "I'm just not good with...people...or talking."

"I highly doubt that," Clarke responded quietly. 

"Ask me, please. What you want to know." Lexa's voice softened. Clarke sensed the vulnerability in her voice, and she could tell that Lexa was unsure but also certain at the same time. "I'd rather you ask then me having to wonder what's going on in your head."

Clarke noted the irony in the statement. All she wanted to do was to know what was going on in Lexa's head, and here she was having the other girl tell her that she wanted to know what was going on in her own head. 

"I don't know if you remembered what happened that night." Clarke started truthfully, not wanting to speak too bluntly. 

"I know what you saw, and I want you to ask me whatever you want to ask," Lexa spoke slowly, and Clarke could perceive a little impatience in the other girl's voice. Lexa's eyes were still shut, and Clarke could observe the other girl's hands slowly tightening into a fist. 

"I don't really know you, so it's none of my business. You shouldn't have to tell me and I shouldn't ask." 

"But you want to."

Lexa chose her words carefully and the four words bore more meaning than on its surface. She saw the way Clarke looked at her. It was a mixture of curiosity and love. Perhaps Lexa's brain was toying with her and exaggerating what she thought she saw in Clarke.

She could tell that Clarke was somewhat in love with her, but she could also tell that Clarke wasn't sure of what was in her head either. It frightened her, to see someone look at her like that. At the same time, it was daunting, to have someone look at her like she was broken. But for the most part, it was nerve-wracking because she felt the same way.

The thing was, Lexa was almost certain that Clarke didn't know just how in love with her she was, and she planned to keep it that way. She didn't want to jinx the possibility of Clarke's feelings turning out to be not so genuine. Maybe genuine wasn't the word, but Lexa was scared of the chance that Clarke simply saw her as a broken thing that needed to be fixed. She was afraid that Clarke's obsession would wear off if she stopped being "broken".

Lexa was observant, and for the past few months, she had noticed Clarke constantly. She watched how she interacted with others, and slowly and beautifully, she fell in love with every part of her. She fell in love with how she bit her lips when she was concentrated on her studies, and the way she balanced her laptop on one leg sitting in the kitchen in a t-shirt and jeans. She loved her laugh when someone told her a joke, and her disappointed look when she realized there was no more food in the fridge. She loved her hilarious discussions on the most random topics with her friend Raven in the kitchen, and she loved how she adorable she was when she finally won the argument. 

Even though her eyes were closed, she could sense Clarke staring at her. She debated whether to open her eyes and see what the other girl was looking at. She composed herself before she did, and Clarke's flustered expression when she was caught staring for way too long was adorable. 

"Only if you want to tell me." 

Lexa wanted to. Despite not really knowing her but also knowing a lot about her, Lexa felt like she could trust Clarke. For some reason, Lexa wanted to tell her. But if telling her meant Clarke would only see her as more fragile than she already believed, it would ruin everything. She didn't need fixing. 

In that instant, she closed up again. For minutes, the two sat silently without saying a word. Clarke heard Lexa's nervous breathing, and her reflexes told her to hold Lexa's hand. The blue-eyed Australian slowly held Lexa's right hand and spoke quietly. "It's alright."

“I have to go.” 

All Clarke could do was look as Lexa walked away further and further away from her.


	4. Spectrum

“We’ll run where lights won’t chase us.”

Clarke opened her eyes and adjusted her sight to the bright sunlight beaming through the windows. I forgot to close the curtains again. Groggily, she stumbled out of bed to block the blinding light from barging into the room unwanted. She yanked the curtains shut which in turn took revenge by sprinkling her with dust. Clarke coughed and climbed back into the comfort of her own bed. 

She sat on her bed and grabbed her phone from her bedside table. It was about five minutes to nine, and she was glad that she wouldn't have to endure the piercing sound of her alarm. The motivation she used in the morning in order to force herself to wake was the fear of having to listen to that awful shrieking sound. She tried her best to maintain a regular sleep schedule, and even though she didn’t have any lectures this morning, she woke up at the usual hour feeling refreshed. 

Suddenly, she felt a wave of dizziness overwhelm her. A feeling of unconsciousness swept through her entire body as her sight went blank. Clarke fell backwards onto her bed, her shoulder accidentally colliding with the wooden frame and a sharp pain electrocuted her bones. Her body twisted to the other side to prevent her arm from touching the hard surface, but the sudden movement of her head only made things worse. The dizzy sensation was unbearable, and Clarke only wished she'd fainted so she wouldn't have to feel this. She was on the verge of unconsciousness but she knew she wasn't complete out of it, feeling every single agonizing moment. Clarke was a relatively healthy person, and she wasn’t used to dizzy spells. It sure hurt like hell, she thought and wished for the pain to go away.

It took a while before things gradually resumed to normal, and the white light she saw slowly faded. Her body was still hurting with that collision, but at least her head wasn't spinning. To be more accurate, it had felt like her entire body was spinning. It felt like her body was being shook vigorously by an invisible hand that was determined to make her suffer. God, she hated it. At least things were back to normal now. Or so she thought. 

She blinked repeatedly until her eyesight returned to normal. Something wasn't right. Her sight came back gradually, and the more it came back, the more she felt like she was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. The room was dark, too dark. She’d left a small crack in the curtains to let the light in, and now she could barely see anything. The unfamiliar surroundings got clearer and clearer, and when it all came back, Clarke knew that she was no longer in her own room. In fact, she knew exactly whose room this was. It was Lexa's. 

Why was she in here? One moment she was just waking up in her room, the next she was in Lexa's bed, and it wasn't even the morning after sort of thing. She was literally in someone else's bed. Accidentally. Clarke was weirded out by the whole situation. This couldn't possibly be happening, could it? This has to be a dream, she whispered under her breath. She thought back to how someone once told her that in dreams, you couldn't count your fingers. She looked down at her hands. Nope, all five fingers were there. This couldn't actually be reality could it? It sure felt like it, she thought while pinching herself. She was awake, all right. 

She searched her mind for a more plausible explanation. Could she have passed out and someone simply brought her here? It seemed reasonable, but why? But she didn’t pass out, or did she? She searched for something to indicate what time it was, and right on the bedside table was a digital clock. Nine fifteen. What the hell? It wouldn't have been long enough for someone to go into her room and perhaps kidnap her. She hadn’t lost any time either. What in the world was going on?

Her legs were still weak from the collapse and she slowly searched the room for answers. She was at Lexa's desk in a mere of seconds and she could see the notebook she'd seen Lexa scribbling or writing in on the roof yesterday. There were words written it in, but Clarke stopped before she was close enough to read what was written. Yes, she was curious, but no, she would never do something like that. 

From the table, Clarke could tell Lexa was in the middle of something. Perhaps the other girl had left the room, but her gut feeling told her that that wasn't the case. She ignored her curiosity to read what was in it and observed the rest of the room. She'd never gotten the time to appreciate how beautifully decorated Lexa's room was. It was dark, yes, but it had this sense of mystery to it, just like the girl who lived in it. The last time she was in here, she was here to make sure Lexa was okay. 

Just as Clarke was about to leave Lexa's room and go back to her own room to find out what was going on, she stopped in her tracks. Lexa had a mirror hung on the closet door, and Clarke stood by the door disbelieving what she saw in the mirror. This couldn’t be right. This isn’t right. What the mirror was telling her was impossible. It couldn’t be true, it simply couldn’t. 

As she stared at the reflection in the mirror, she grew more and more confused by the second. The face staring back at her wasn’t herself. It was the green-eyed girl that she’d carried back the other day. It was Lexa. The reflection staring back at her was Lexa’s. 

Somehow, someway, she was Lexa. She was in her body, and that just didn’t make sense to Clarke. It wasn’t supposed to. There was no such thing as magic, or a higher power. But the facts in front of her own eyes were telling her otherwise, unless she was still in a dream. Yet, she’d established that this was reality. Was this what they called an out-of-body experience? This wasn’t happening. 

Meanwhile, Lexa stood in front of Clarke’s desk and was admiring a drawing the blonde girl had plastered on her wall. Clarke’s room was covered entirely in posters, and some were band posters while the rest were drawings. Lexa wondered whether Clarke drew any of this, and by the splats of unwashed paint on Clarke’s desk, she assumed that some of these pieces were hers. 

There was one that stood out amongst the others, and it was a large oil painting of the sea stuck above her bed. Lexa didn’t know much about art, but she knew enough that it was one hell of a painting. The way the colours blended in with each other, Lexa couldn’t help but smile at how soothing it was. She didn’t know why, but looking at it gave her a sense of serenity. 

Clarke’s room was, undoubtedly, a little messy. It was a little unorganized but everything was where it was supposed to be. Her guitar was leaning against the wall, waiting for the touch of a hand. Lexa went over and strummed the strings lightly. She didn’t really play guitar, but she had a long time ago. It had been ages since she picked up a guitar, and as much as she missed it, she’d lost her touch ages ago. 

The third thing she noticed was a photo on Clarke’s desk. It was stuck to the horizontal surface, with a transparent plastic sheet covered over it and tape to seal off the sides and edges. There was only one photo on her desk and Lexa made a mental note that it was for sure an important one. In the photo was some guy Lexa hadn’t seen before, a rather good-looking one, with a smile plastered all over his face. He was young, perhaps the photo was taken a few years back? She didn’t recognize the face, nor did it feel familiar. 

Her world came crashing down as the door was basically kicked open. Perhaps she was exaggerating, but it was opened in a split second. It was only then Lexa caught a glimpse of a mirror hung behind the bedroom door, and she could have sworn she saw Clarke’s face in the reflection staring back at her. The face was gone when someone barged in, and she couldn’t believe in. She saw herself walk in that door. 

As the door hinged back shut, the reflection was clear once again and the mirror showed a familiar face. She was Clarke. She became Clarke. What in the hell was going on? Why was she looking at herself standing next to her? She would swear on her own life that the person standing next to her looked exactly like herself, and the body she was in was Clarke’s. But then again, it wasn’t like her life mattered that much. 

The dizzy feeling she’d experienced minutes ago came back, this time like a car crash collision. Clarke and Lexa both lost their balance and stumbled to the ground, the heads spinning and their thoughts revolting around their heads. They each saw a strong memory, but it wasn’t there. By then, both of them grasped the idea that something was linked between them. They saw for a mere second an image that was vivid yet wasn’t theirs. They each saw the strongest memory the other had in their own heads, and it went as fast as it came. 

Clarke and Lexa regained consciousness and found themselves in different positions. Lexa was looking at Clarke once again, and stared at her hands just to make sure she was herself again. Her heart was beating a thousand times per minute and she watched Clarke do the same. 

Lexa ran out of there as fast as she could.


	5. Angels

“Here's a toast to the lucky ones, to the girl who just broke my heart.”

Lexa went back into her room to process everything that happened. What in the world was that? She had never been a believer of magic, but there was no way science could explain what just went on in there. She was in Clarke's body. Yes, she wanted to be in her body, but not like that. If she had to describe what had happened in words, it would be as if their souls had left their host and somehow, their souls found their way into the each other. It was rather poetic, she added silently. But the word poetic exists for a reason. Life wasn’t always that poetic, or magical, or romantic. It could be, and she prayed it was. 

For a few minutes, she and Clarke had exchanged places, and once they managed to get a look at each other, it went back to normal. Was that they key? Was the key to switching back simply to find the other? Why Clarke though? Why not someone else? What was the reason for it? A thousand questions were floating around in her mind and she had no answers to any one of them. 

She would like to say she didn’t believe in magic, but that was proof, wasn't it? Right there, what just happened was definitely proof. It was proof that some things just couldn't be explained, and evidence of how maybe, just maybe, magic existed. It would be fun to think that it did, for a minute. Lexa slammed the door shut and leaned against it, the thoughts spinning around in her head. She needed an explanation. She needed something, just a clue, to make sense of all this. 

As if on cue, her phone vibrated from the table. Who would be calling this early in the morning? As she walked over the table to reach for her phone, she realized that her journal had been laid out on the table. Shit, what if Clarke saw? How in the world could she be so careless? She reprimanded herself and slammed the cover shut. But then again, she knew that she wasn’t to be blamed considering she wasn't prepared to have somebody possess her body and be in her room. Perhaps ‘possessed’ wasn’t the best word, but she had yet to decide the best way to describe what happened. 

She grabbed her phone from the desk and glanced at the lit-up screen. Instantaneously, she pressed the volume button to stop the phone from shaking. Her mom was calling, which was rather weird because her parents always made sure to ask if she was free before calling, knowing that she could be in a lecture or something could be keeping her busy. She’d always made sure to send her a text message before calling, so she started to panic seeing the unusual behaviour. 

"Hey mom," Lexa spoke into the receiver. "Is everything alright?"

"Morning to you too, sweetheart. Yeah, honey, everything's fine. I just wanted to check up on you."

Lexa breathed a huge sigh of relief, knowing that this wasn't an emergency. But still, it was weird for her mom to call unannounced and at this time of the day. "What's going on? Why are you calling me at ten in the morning?" 

She didn't get an immediate response. "I just..." Lexa's mom drifted off, not knowing how to phrase the question. "I just wanted to ask...if you’re okay, if anything’s happened."

"Honey, what did she say?" Lexa heard the distant voice of her step-father through the phone. "Who is it? Is it someone she knows?" Lexa could probably imagine the scenario, her step-dad coming out of the bathroom after his morning shower and talking to Lexa’s mom with a towel wrapped around his waist. She knew that he did that whenever she wasn’t around, and she made a mental note to thank him someday for avoiding that awkward scenario they would have been put in if he had not done so. 

"Shut up, I haven't asked her yet," Lexa's mom yelled back, laughing as she focused back onto her conversation with her daughter. The faint voices from the television sounded from the background, and Lexa could tell the volume was turned down for the phone call.

"Ask me what?"

"Is there something you want to tell me?" From the tone of her voice, Lexa could tell that her mom was smiling, even grinning perhaps. She couldn't possibly guess for the love of God what was going on. What was she supposed to be telling her mom? It wouldn't be the whole body-switching thing. She decided that was what she would be calling it. Her mom couldn't possibly know what just happened. The whole thing was weird, and how could her mom help her when she didn't even know what happened. 

"No, not really." Lexa casually responded with a shrug. 

"Honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Even without seeing her face, Lexa could imagine her mom’s concerned look, which only made the situation much more intense. Why was her mom suddenly worrying about her? She couldn’t possibly know something. 

"What am I supposed to tell you?" 

"I didn't tell my mom either," Lexa's mom laughed. "I remember being so confused at what happened and she didn't ask until a week later. I spent a week trying to figure it out and I only wished she'd told me immediately. But then again, there is the possibility that you are the older one." It sounded more and more like Lexa's mom knew what was going on, except for the last part which Lexa didn't understand. 

"Come on, stop making me wonder. Did something happen or not?"

Lexa realized she could lie, and all she had to do was to say that nothing happened. It seemed that her mom would believe her, but then she would never find out the answer. If her mom did know something, she supposed she should be asking. She supposed it was better than not knowing. 

"It's really weird. Something really weird happened. It was sort of like an out-of-body experience, I guess?" 

"Honey, she's calling it an out-of-body experience," Lexa's mom yelled out, and Lexa knew it wasn't meant for her. The comment was responded by a burst of laughter from behind. 

"If you're just going to tease me about it, I'm not going to tell you," Lexa pouted. 

"I'm sorry baby it's just really exciting, and I don’t think that’s what an out-of-body experience means." How could this be exciting to her? Everything was so confusing and weird. If there was one word Lexa wouldn't use to describe the situation, it would be exciting. It was insane and mind-blowing in the worst way possible. 

"So you know?" Lexa questioned. She was still uncertain whether her mom actually knew what was going on or was she simply trying to act like she did so Lexa would tell her something. Second-guessing everyone's motive was also another one of Lexa's flaws, as well as a good defense mechanism. 

"Yes. Just tell me. Who is it?" Lexa's mom asked eagerly. "Who did you change with?" 

She really knew, Lexa frowned, disbelieving. How would she have known something like this would happen, and how would she know the exact moment it did. She'd only just switch back to her own body a while ago and her mom was already calling to find out. 

"What...wait...how do you know?" 

"Come on, just tell me who your soulmate is. Is it someone I know?" 

Soulmate. Her mom used the word soulmate. Wait, did that mean Clarke was her soulmate? Her lips stumbled over the two-syllable word. Soulmate. How is that even possible? The line of thought in Lexa's mind became tangled like a web and every single question was more confusing than the last. Did her mom just tell her that Clarke Griffin was her soulmate? The girl that barely looked at her twice in the last two months was her soulmate? The girl who'd brought her back to her room when she was drunk was her soulmate? The girl who appeared on the roof when she wanted to be alone was her fucking soulmate? That girl. Clarke Griffin. 

But somehow, it made sense. She wondered if by now, Clarke knew. Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. It all made sense now. The way she felt about Clarke was something uncontrollable, and she always thought that it was mostly one-sided. Lexa rarely fell for someone she didn't know all that much, and that made her fall for someone that was her best friend once. She never understood her feelings for Clarke. All she ever did was admire and love her from afar, and she was content with that. She didn’t need Clarke to love her back, and she was scared that this would change things. Did Clarke know what was happening yet? She had to, right? All she could think about was whether someone had told Clarke yet, and she’d give anything to know how she was making sense of the situation. 

To her, it made sense now. All the little thoughts in her head fitted into the puzzle neatly and stuck together as if there was some sort of glue holding them together. As fucked up as the whole scenario was, there was something about this that just made sense. It just did. Something felt right, and it scared her. It was like a part of the puzzle that originally didn’t seem to fit suddenly molded itself into the right shape and solved a huge part of the mystery. It wasn’t complete yet, but it certainly made her understand a lot more. 

“Can I call you back later?” Lexa managed to mumble while still being trapped in her thoughts. She needed to sort out her spinning head. She hung up the phone shortly after that, and that only made it worse. The noises in her head started to scream at her, and she grabbed the leftover wine from the bottom of her desk and drank from the bottle. 

She still had the mental image of Clarke's room stuck in her mind. It was one of those rooms where everything wasn't as tidy and clean but everything was right where you needed them to be. There weren't a lot of personal artifacts around but Lexa supposed it was because this accommodation would be temporary. Thoughts of Clarke were spinning in her head, and she hated that she barely knew the girl. Yes, she knew about her, and of her, but she doubted she really knew her considering they’d barely spoken to each other. For the past few months, they’d talked only twice and it both happened in the last week. 

The one thing that didn’t make sense was why this was happening now. It was only then she realized it was her birthday. Another piece made its way onto the board and something clicked in her mind. It happened on her 18th birthday. Despite everything Lexa was clueless about, she knew one thing for certain. She was in love with Clarke fucking Griffin.


	6. Not In Love

"Because you're not in love, there's no way you possibly could."

"Come on, Clarke. Just fucking talk to her." 

Clarke groaned from where she was sitting, in front of her desk with music blasting out of her speakers. A few feet away from her was her bed, in which her best friend Raven was lying on. She glanced at Raven for a split second before turning up the volume. "I don't want to," Clarke mumbled stubbornly, her voice faint compared to the music in the background. 

"She's your fucking soulmate. Just go talk to her, Clarke." Raven repeated, not giving up that easily. "At least try and talk it out. You won't regret it."

"I just..." Clarke closed her freshly completed assignment and continued. "I just don’t believe in all this." 

"What's not to believe?" Raven pressed with a raised eyebrow. To be honest, Raven hadn’t expected Clarke to be this skeptical. At least, not more skeptical than she was. “And how the hell did you manage to finish that so quickly? You barely just started.”

Yesterday, after Clarke 'reverted' back to her own self, she ran over to Raven’s room for help. She knocked violently on the other girl's door until she woke Raven, who was in a pretty bad mood considering Clarke had just disrupted a really good dream. Her roommate Octavia was still sound asleep and Clarke was glad not to have woken her. She knew how Octavia’s moods could be, having heard a lot about her from Raven. Clarke struggled to express herself, her words rambling and her incoherent sentences only made the situation much more frustrating to Raven. When she finally verbalized her thoughts in a way that was somewhat understandable, Raven explained it all to her. That was after the other girl teased her for being so shaken up about it. 

What Clarke got from Raven was basically, when you turned eighteen, you would exchange bodies with your soulmate. If you were older, it would happen on the day of the younger person's birthday. All you had to do to reverse the change was to find that person, and once you did, everything would be "back to normal", to quote Raven Reyes. So in a way, all the universe wanted to do was to make sure you knew who your soulmate was. Then you could go back to your normal lives and act like you never knew. The universe is fucking screwed up, Clarke thought to herself. 

"You know I don't believe in magic...power....soulmates...all those stuff. It's bullshit." The blonde was scrolling vigorously with her mouse trying to find a song to fit her mood right now which didn’t seem to working. 

Clarke just didn't believe in magic, or anything of the supernatural. Sure, she'd like to, and appreciated the concept of it, but she just didn't actually believe in it. The idea itself seemed…she searched her mind for a word that seemed appropriate. Mystical, she repeated under her breath. She would love for magic to exist, but she just couldn’t believe it right now. It just simply didn’t exist, and nothing in this world could convince her otherwise. There was no such thing as magic. 

"You try explaining what happened yesterday," Raven shot back. "There's no other way to explain it. Trust me, I know." The last two words that came out of Raven’s mouth had a bigger impact on Clarke than she would care to admit. The blue-eyed girl sighed, knowing that there was some truth to her statement, maybe even a lot. If anyone knew, it was Raven. If anyone understood, it would be her. 

"So let's say I believe you. The universe organized this elaborate scheme to get you to find out who your soulmate is at the age of eighteen, then what? Just so you know? What’s the fucking point of that?" 

"That is the point."

Clarke shook her head, disbelieving. "What's the purpose of getting you to know it and then it's your choice to decide if you want to...I don't know, pursue a relationship?" 

Raven couldn’t help but wonder if Clarke simply didn’t believe or maybe she just didn’t want to. "Don't you think it's kind of fun? You get to know who your soulmate is. You don't have to actually be with that person but knowing, it gives you a choice." Raven enquired, still flipping through the magazine. 

"Yeah, but if the two of you are supposedly soulmates, aren't you going to find them eventually? Like your paths would cross one day and forcing a hand on it isn't going to help." Clarke wasn’t about to give up that easily. The whole point of soulmates was that it was natural. Your natural courses of lives were supposed to bring you together, and wouldn’t the body-exchange part change the course of nature?

Raven let out a sigh. What would it take for Clarke to believe? She herself had never been a believer, but it didn't take much to convince her that what her mother told her when she turned eighteen was true. It was that gut feeling in her that made her know that the person in front of her was the one. It just felt right, and she didn't understand why Clarke couldn't see that with Lexa. Maybe she did, and Clarke was just too stubborn to believe it. 

"Like if you know, wouldn't that change things? It's like all those supernatural films where someone time jumps into the future and then mess up something because they know what's going to happen. They mess up their timeline and change the future because they learn the events of the future. Everything’s linked, so it just fucks things up," Clarke suggested. "So if you know who your soulmate, wouldn't you do something to force nature and change your life course and maybe somehow you wouldn't be soulmates in the end. If it's that simple and everyone just gets their happy after ending just from learning who your true love is supposed to be..."

"Clarke..." Raven cut her off. "Stop talking." The older girl grinned at the flushed girl. "Listen to me." 

She waited until Clarke had caught her breath and was fully concentrating. Raven waited until the blue eyes were fixated on what she had to say before she spoke. 

"Tell me, what do you feel when you look at Lexa?"

Clarke remembered the first time she saw Lexa. It was one week before the official first day of school, and she'd gotten in earlier than the other girl. She watched as Lexa and her father, she presumed, carried boxes of things down the stairs and into her room. She stood from across the hallway, not wanting to intrude. Lexa gave her a small smile when their eyes met, and Clarke couldn't help but reciprocate it. Lexa's parents had noticed her too, and they waved politely before Clarke disappeared back into her own room shyly. The girl was undeniably gorgeous, and even from afar the striking green eyes seemed...she didn't know how to phrase it. Her eyes were beautifully haunted. The girl was a mixture of emotions, and that was the first thing Clarke noticed about her.

Ever since then, Clarke had always noticed that beautiful yet guarded girl that lived across the hallway. She’d seen her drunk, intoxicated yet the wall surrounding her stood high. It didn’t even feel like it was made of bricks, but as though they were made of metal and nothing could knock them down. She’d seen her concentrate on that notebook of hers, as if everything else in the world had just disappeared. She knew nothing about the girl, yet it felt familiar. It felt good, and she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to know the girl. She couldn’t deny that she felt something for the girl. It wasn’t clear what that was, but it was certainly something.

"Maybe I do love her." Clarke's thoughts came out of her mouth without her realizing. "Did I just say that out loud?" Raven laughed at Clarke’s outburst of emotion. The other girl frowned and spoke. “Look, I care for her, is that so bad? She’s just different than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“It’s not. It’s just that I’ve never seen you care for anyone you didn’t know on a personal level. You barely know her, yet you feel something for her.” She realized how true Raven’s words were, and to Clarke, an emotional connection was far more important than any physical one. 

“Fine, maybe there’s something.” Clarke returned to being stubborn about it. “I barely know her.” She banged her head against the table, feeling frustrated as hell. 

“Then get to know her.” Raven made a simply suggestion. Clarke responded with a puppy-dog look on her face and a pout. “Don’t do that,” Raven laughed. “You make me weak.” 

Clarke crossed her arms on the table and leaned her head on her forearm, glancing at Raven sideways. Her mind went back to thinking about Lexa, and as much as she didn’t want to believe it, she did like Lexa, sort of. But there was something about the term ‘soulmates’ that bugged her. It was just a weird feeling she got, and the girl pushed the thought to the back of her mind. 

"My work here is done." Raven declared victoriously. She closed the magazine she was reading, or at least trying to, and stood up. "I am going to be in my room and I am going to expect details from you no later than 10 o’clock. Scratch that. If you feel like telling me in the morning that will be completely fine too." She walked away with a victory grin on her face. 

"Get out of here.” An annoyed Clarke threw a pillow at Raven, but she soon realized what a mistake that was as Raven retaliated by throwing the magazine at her face. “I actually need that back,” Raven walked back over to pick it up, defenseless and raised her arms up in surrender. She made her way out for the second time before Clarke stopped her with a last question. 

"I know I shouldn't be asking this, but do you believe it? Like the whole concept that there's only one person in the world that could be your soulmate."

Raven paused to think. Did she believe that a person could only have one soulmate? Yes. Did she believe that there was only one person in this world right for you? No. She took a deep breath before answering. 

"There's always a possibility of someone else loving you as much, or even more, than your soulmate ever could. It's not guaranteed that things between you and Lexa will work out, but if you don't try, you'll never know." Raven's eyes glistened with tears as she reminisced. "There's always someone else out there. Always."

“So Finn, he was,” Clarke was cut off by Raven before she could even finished the sentence. “He was.” Raven responded quietly. The younger girl saw the pain in Raven’s eyes and regretted bringing up the memory. But then again, she was almost certain that Raven had thought about him the second Clarke asked her about the whole soulmate thing. How could she have not? 

Clarke went over and squeezed Raven into a hug, in an attempt to suffocate her, Raven might say. "That I believe. Thank you." Clarke whispered into Raven's ear. As much as she needed to hear Raven say that, she knew Raven needed it more. Clarke wrapped her arms around Raven and gripped the other girl's shoulder tightly. Without any distance between them, she spoke softly. "I love you."

“Not as much as Lexa does though.” Raven couldn’t resist making one more comment as she escaped Clarke’s room and also the pillow that was thrown at her.


End file.
